Hyperion Shots
by GreyLiliy
Summary: One-Shots for the Handsome Jack/Rhys (Rhack) pairing.
1. Massage

_Tumblr Request. Anon wanted Jack not to be a jerk after Rhys had a hard day. Was more than happy to oblige._

* * *

 **Massage**

"Well, someone looks like he had a rough night," Jack said, popping his feet up on his desk. "With those bags under your eyes, I'd ask if someone kept you up all night, but I'm not seeing a hickey so that can't be it."

Rhys dropped the stack of papers on his desk and couldn't even work up the energy to glare at his chipper boss. "I really don't want to talk about it."

"Aw, pumpkin," Jack chuckled. He leaned back in his seat, looking Rhys over from head to toe. Bags under his eyes, a perpetual frown and his tie was hanging loose instead of tucked into his belt line. Baby boy was pouting. "I bet you'll feel better if you tell me all about it?"

"Somehow I doubt that," Rhys said. He reached up and dug his fingers into his shoulders near the plate that held his metal arm in place. He rolled his shoulders, stretching it out and sighed. "More like you'll make fun of me."

"That's a given, babe," Jack said. He pulled his feet down and walked over, cracking his knuckles. "But I can be nice when I want to be."

"Somehow I doubt that," Rhys said, not even caring that he was snarking back. He was too tired to deal with this. All in all, he really should have just called in sick after all the shit he put up with last night. "It's fine, Jack. I'm just tired."

"And sore it looks like," Jack said. He grabbed Rhys by the shoulders and maneuvered him into his rolling chair. He reached down and lowered the seat back all the way, leaving the top of Rhys' shoulders exposed. "Why don't I take care of that?"

"Jack you really don't–oh!" Rhys cut himself off when Jack's thumbs dug into his shoulder blades, and his fingers touched the back of his neck. Jack squeezed for a moment, before the rolling motion of his thumbs began to work their way into Rhys' sore muscles. He practically melted on the spot, only managing to blurt out. "That's new."

"It's called a massage, kiddo," Jack said, laughing. He leaned forward, pushing all his weight into the tips of his fingers. The knots in Rhys' back were obscene. No way he worked his PA that hard (Or if he did, Jack would never admit it). Whatever happened last night must have been rough. "Not exactly a new thing."

"New to me," Rhys said, groaning. He dropped his forehead onto his desk and moaned. Jack followed him, moving to dig the base of his palms into Rhys' back. "That feels so good."

"Of course it does. I've got magic fingers," Jack said. He hummed lightly, leaning on Rhys' back and digging his elbow into a particularly tough knot near the spine. "You feeling good enough to tell Jack all about what's got you so upset, pumpkin?"

"Are you going to stop if I tell you?"

"Probably."

Rhys turned his head, looking over his shoulders. HIs eyes held challenge and he muttered into the desk. "Then I'm taking it to my grave."

Jack laughed hard enough to collapse on Rhys' back snickering.


	2. Wearing His Face

_Tumblr Request. Anon wanted a scenario where Jack used Vaughn's body with the robot skeleton from the end of_ Tales From The Borderlands _instead of Rhys. Ended up being a fun, angsty little one-shot._

* * *

 **Wearing His Face**

Jack's face. Jack's voice. Vaughn's abs.

Rhys bit the side of his thumb hard enough to draw blood. He knew Jack had been fascinated by his friend's body, but he didn't think he'd take it this far.

"I love how flexible digi-tech is," Jack said, fixing his hair in the mirror. His shirt, jacket and vest were laid across his desk. He tapped the front of his belly with his fingers and grinned at his stolen muscles. "And amazed at how a body can stretch. Don't know if it would have been worth it to be that short, even with a bod like this."

Rhys covered his mouth with his hand, distracting himself with the taste of salt and blood. It wasn't worth it at all. He glared hard at Jack's back and the shoulder blades that didn't belong to him. None of this was worth it.

"Makes me glad I spent so much money to get this stuff perfect for my body doubles, even if I never figured I'd be using it myself," Jack hummed. He smoothed his hair down and walked over to the desk. He pulled on his shirt, buttoning up the front. "But man does it feel good to be out of your head."

Rhys turned away, glancing at the cuffs that held his ankle attached to the couch leg. Jack continued to dress and talk, and Rhys was so thankful that he was finally covering himself.

"Still giving me the silent treatment, kiddo?" Jack hummed, strolling over to the couch. "For someone who hates it when I call you that, you're sure acting like a brat."

"You killed Vaughn to wear his body around like a puppet," Rhys said, glaring at the digital mask that covered Vaughn's face. "How am I supposed to act?"

"Grateful," Jack answered. He grabbed the top of Rhys' hair and tugged, yanking hard enough that a hiss escaped Rhys' lips. He pulled his hands up to grab at Jack's arm, but they were swatted away with strength that came from muscle and a metal skeleton. "That's what you should be."

"Grateful for what?" Rhys asked. "Killing my friend!?"

"Your 'friend' backstabbed you. He sold you out, pumpkin," Jack said. He shook Rhys' head by the hair, knocking his head into the back of the couch. "He did it once, he'll do it again, and you really didn't need that in your life. You're too nice to kill anyone, so I took care of it for you."

"I'm never going to thank you for that," Rhys answered back, swallowing hard. He growled, "Let go of my hair."

"Eh, that's fine," Jack said. He loosened his grip and dragged his fingers through Rhys' hair in a quick pet before backing up. "You'll get over it."

Jack rubbed his hands together and grinned as he strolled back to his desk. "We've got too much work to do for you to linger on this for much longer, Rhysie."

"Go to hell, Jack."

It was Vaughn's voice that answered: "Can't! Having way too much fun wearing your dead buddy around as a puppet to leave now."

Jack smirked and sat behind his desk, loving the way Rhys' jaw dropped and the way his eyes widened. Jack turned off the digi-mask and Vaughn's face smiled back at him. He even shoved up the pair of glasses on his face. "I can make this a whole lot worse for you, Rhys. So maybe, just maybe, you should show a little gratitude."

Rhys grit his teeth together, and he gave in. Anything to make Jack stop. Each syllable was forced, and felt like swallowing glass. "Thank you, Jack."

"Now was that so hard?" Jack finished in Vaughn's voice. He sat back in his chair, reactivating the digital costume, once again covering his friend's face with Jack's handsome face. His voice returned and he hummed lightly. "Aren't things better when you cooperate?"

Rhys narrowed his eyes and laid his head back. He should have never gone to Pandora.


	3. Both Too Young (AU)

_Tumblr Request. Anon wanted Teenage Jack reluctant to accept Rhys' help in raising Angel. But, since I'm a stickler for ages (If Rhys is about 27, and Jack's in his 40's, that means if Jack is 17, Rhys has to be like 3. XD), this ended up being domestic, family fluff. Fun times._

* * *

 **Both Too Young**

Jack knew that raising a kid was going to be tough, but he always figured it'd be two seventeen year olds against the world. But Angel's mum died in child birth so now it was one seventeen year old against the world, while holding a baby.

That wasn't fair at all.

"Come on, baby girl, daddy can't take this much crying," Jack said, rocking the baby back and forth. He rubbed her back as the little girl wailing into his shoulder. A siren she was not; not with that banshee shriek. Jack paced around his living room. "Daddy's got work tomorrow and we both need sleep and that a–awful man Mr. Tassiter doesn't like it when I'm tired."

Angel ignored him, choosing to continue crying over getting the sleep she clearly wanted.

"You ate, you're not old enough to be teething yet, and I don't know what's wrong," Jack said. He shifted the rag on his shoulder, keeping his favorite sweater safe from her spittle. "I don't know what you want, pumpkin."

"She's loud."

Jack jumped, turning at the source of the new voice. Standing in the sliding doorway of his kitchen near the back yard, was the neighbor kid. The boy had a new yellow patch over his fake eye, and his right sleeve was loose today instead of pinned up to his shoulder stub. He pushed the kitchen door all the way open with a grunt and helped himself into Jack's kitchen.

"Hey kiddo, where's your folks?" Jack asked, struggling to remember the kid's name. Considering he'd been to the kid's 4th birthday party with Angel, that was sort of embarrassing. He glanced out the back door and didn't see them in their own yard. "It's late."

"They're asleep," the kid said. He scrunched his nose at Angel crying and huffed. "Don't know how. She's loud."

"She's upset," Jack said. He rubbed the back of his head. "Seriously, kiddo. I've got my hands full with Angel. You need to go home."

"Rhys," he said. "I'm not kiddo!"

"Rhysie, fine," Jack said, rubbing Angel's back. "You need to go home."

"Why's Angel upset?"

"I don't know."

"Can I help?" Rhys asked, tugging on Jack's pant leg. He glanced up, honey brown eye wide. "I don't like the crying."

"Neither do I, and no you can't help." Jack said, shifting to hold Angel with one arm. He patted Rhys' head and huffed.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm her daddy and it's my job and not yours," Jack said. "That's why."

"That's dumb."

"Don't be a brat, kiddo," Jack said, emphasizing the 'kiddo' with both his voice and his body language as he took a seat at his couch. Rhys crawled up onto the seat next to him and stared hard at Angel. "I've already got one on my hands right now."

"I wanna hold her," Rhys said. Jack raised an eyebrow at the brat that was barely bigger than Angel herself and snorted. In response, Rhys sat next to Jack and held up his one arm. He said with all his muster and determination, "I can do it."

Jack huffed and rolled his eyes. "I bet you can."

Rhys' arm stayed raised, and eyes narrowed in challenge. It was a good look on the brat.

"Okay, okay, you can hold her." Jack pulled Angel down to his lap, still wailing away with a voice he'd almost drowned out. He shifted her spit cloth to Rhys' shoulder and set her down in his lap, carefully. "You got her?"

Rhys wrapped his arm around her back and she put her head on his shoulder. The kid grunted as he tried to shift and hold all of her weight with his one scrawny little arm, but he did keep her upright. Jack's hands hovered just in case, but Rhys had her.

And then Angel stopped stopped crying.

"Well I'll be," Jack said, snorting. Rhys beamed up at him with a big smile and looked down at Angel and him. He didn't talk though, because they both noticed Angel's eyes had closed and her breathing had slowed. He didn't to wake her up. Smart kid. "Good job."

Rhys nodded, yawning himself. He leaned on Jack's side and the man crossed his legs at the ankles. He couldn't fall asleep, not with two small kids that could fall off the couch, but no way was Jack not going to take this chance to close his eyes and relax.

Maybe he should invite the neighbor kid over more often.


	4. Surprise, Surprise

_Tumblr Request. This one ended up being my favorite of the five I did in one setting. The Anon wanted Rhys to plan a surprise for Jack, but have him mistake it for an assassination attempt. Fun times._

* * *

 **Surprise, Surprise**

Jack dropped the body, flexing his fingers after their little work out snapping the messenger's neck.

The man was either lying, or telling the truth, and either way Jack was pretty sure that killing him was inevitable. It was how Jack solved his problems. Killing people. Jack stomped out of his office radiating enough malice that everyone scrambled out of his way as he headed down the corridor.

It was times like this that he valued his reputation as being terrifying. Jack had far too much on his mind to worry about what his little peons thought of him. Jack shoved the first person to not get out of his way fast enough into the nearest wall and growled.

There was no way Rhys was a part of that lie that middle manager asshole had spun.

Rhys out for Jack's head? Importing unregistered guns? Ludicrous! Rhys didn't have the balls for that line of work. He hated getting his hands dirty. That's why he outsourced the worst of it to Vaughn and Yvette.

But then again, Jack thought as he slowed his pace once he reached the living quarters. Rhys and Jack had a lot in common. Maybe Rhys was just better at hiding his own inner demons than Jack.

Wouldn't be the first time Jack had been fooled by a pretty face.

Jack stopped outside Rhys' door, leaning his ear close to the wall. He listened, and didn't hear movement from the other side. He tapped in his override and the door slid open quietly. Without a sound, Jack helped himself into the spacious apartment.

Immediately, he spotted the crate in the center of the living room. He heard Rhys talking in the next room over, and was careful not to draw attention to himself as Jack looked inside the packed box. The stacks of ammunition were like a stab to his heart. The empty space where a gun had been was the hit that drove it through his ribs and had Jack seeing red.

Sneaking to the back bedroom, Rhys' phone conversation stopped being a mumble and came in crystal clarity. Jack peered around the corner just enough to see Rhys holding a firearm, and the Echo call with a video feed to Pandora.

"Rhys, for real. Be careful with that thing," Sasha said from the other line. "It took me a lot of work to get you that, and so help me, you're going to end up shooting yourself in the foot with it way before it ever makes it into a room with Handsome Jack."

"I'm not going to shoot myself with it, Sasha," Rhys huffed. He fiddled with the side of the gun, proving himself wrong as he struggled to find the safety. "I've got it."

"This is why Yvette gave you a stun baton," Sasha snorted.

"Not the point," Rhys shot back. He held it up, and Jack got a better look at the weapon. It was a sleek thing, dressed in black with yellow highlights. Good looking gun. At least if Rhysie was going to kill Jack, he was taking it seriously. Rhys pulled the action back and checked the ammo. "But either way, thanks for your help Sasha. You've got good taste."

"I've got the best taste," Sasha said, crossing her arms. "No one knows guns better than I do."

Jack had to hold back the snort to keep from getting their attention.

"Now go knock him dead, killer," Sasha said, shaking her head. "Let me know how it goes afterwards."

"Will do," Rhys said. He reached up and clicked the echo off. Rhys turned the gun over in his hand and smirked at it. "Man, I can't wait to see his face."

"That so, cupcake?" Jack said, stepping into the doorway. He leaned on the frame and tried to keep his smile easy. No sense in spooking Rhys into running before he had his hands around the little traitor's throat. "That for me?"

"Jack!" Rhys turned, hand still on the gun and mouth open. His eyes were wide and he glanced between Jack and the gun and looked so damn guilty that Jack wanted to scream. "Wh-what are you doing here? You had a meeting."

"I'm the boss, kiddo!" Jack said, holding his arms out. Just daring Rhys to fire. See if the kid could still go through with a plan when he got his hand caught in the cookie jar. "If I want to take the afternoon off, I can."

"Oh, right," Rhys said. He swallowed and looked at the gun. "Well, this. This is–"

"I know what it is, Rhys," Jack said. In a single step, his hand was around Rhys' throat, slamming him into the back wall. He held the kid a foot off the ground and his body twitched as it struggled for oxygen. Jack took the gun out of his hand with the other arm and looked it over. "Nice piece, kiddo."

Rhys smacked his arm with the metal hand, and man did it hurt, but Jack didn't budge. He just squeezed. "Bet you had big plans for this thing. Too bad for you someone filled me in on your little surprise to blow my head off."

"Ja-ja–" Rhys grunted, struggling to get his voice out. Jack could feel his pulse through his throat and it was a rapidly increasing beat. "Gi-grr!"

"Stop mumbling, kiddo," Jack said, turning the gun over. He flicked the safety off the weapon, admiring just how nice this little pistol was. It was the perfect fit in his palm, and man was it pretty. Rhys really went all out, didn't he? Jack wasn't sure if he should be flattered or not the kid put so much money into his attempt to take Jack out. "Use your words."

Rhys kicked Jack in the ribs and he loosened his hold on Rhys' neck just enough for the kid to shout "Gift!"

"Gift?" Jack asked, dropping Rhys. The kid hit the ground, coughing and sucking air into his lungs like he'd been drowning. On his knees he gaped up at Jack and the man kicked him in the side, knocking him onto his hands. "Planning to shoot me in the back isn't exactly a gift in my world, kid."

"The gun," Rhys wheezed, holding his ribs. "It was a gift. I swear! A gift for you!"

Jack stared.

Rhys took that moment to drag himself back and put some distance between the two. His pupils contracted in fear and he stayed low. "Sasha helped me pick it out. Was going to give it to you as a surprise."

"That so," Jack said. He stared down at the gun, ignoring the way his own chest was heaving in time with Rhys' scared breaths. He hummed and looked down at the kid again. "Huh."

"Who…who told you I was going to kill you?" Rhys asked, something hurt in his voice.

"Doesn't matter," Jack mumbled. He dragged his thumb along the side of the gun, tracing the light detailing on the barrel. "Already killed them."

"Oh," Rhys said. He stayed on the ground, pulling his legs up. With shaky arms, Rhys tugged himself off the floor and sat on the edge of his bed. He kept his back to Jack, and collected himself staring at the floor. "Okay."

Jack sat on the edge of the bed, and fell back to thump heavily on Rhys' sheets. Throwing his arm over his eyes, he cursed himself. Of course it was a gift. The hand holding the gun squeezed it as he rested it across his waist. Of course.

Rhys swallowed, but didn't say anything, fidgeting in place. "Sorry. Didn't think…I didn't think it'd be mistaken that way."

"It's a nice gun, kiddo," Jack said. He tapped it on his belt and wondered how much effort it would take to salvage this. To get back to a point when he could look at Rhys without the kid flinching. "I like it."

"I'm glad," Rhys said. He scooted back enough that his back was touching the side of Jack's shoulder. A warm weight that was forgiving enough. Rhys laughed and his shaky breath sounded relieved. "I'll be sure to tell Sasha."

Jack breathed out and turned the safety on. "Thanks, Rhys."

They both knew Jack was thanking him for more than the gun.


	5. Good Boy

_And the last of the Tumblr Requests for that sitting. Anon wanted Rhys with a Daddy Kink, and/or Possessive/Jealous Jack. Decided to do a little of both. XD_

* * *

 **Good Boy**

"Who were you talking to, pumpkin?" Jack asked, taking a seat on the couch. He sunk into the cushion, throwing his arm on the back and spreading his knees. He watched Rhys put the Echo down on the desk and raised an eyebrow. "That was a long call."

"Sasha," Rhys said, rubbing the back of his neck. He licked the side of his lip and pushed the Echo pad around with his finger. "She wanted to vent about Fiona, and you know how long that can take."

"You've been talking to her a lot, haven't you? Still got a little school boy crush, kiddo?" Jack asked, narrowing his eyes. "Not sure daddy approves of that. You're a little young to be dating a girl like that, don't you think?"

"Come on, Jack," Rhys said. He ran his hand through his hair and laughed. "I think I'm old enough to talk with girls."

"Are you now?" Jack said.

"Yup, not that it matters," Rhys said. "Sasha's not really my type."

"And what is your type, kiddo?" Jack said, grinning. He patted the side of his thigh and wiggled his fingers to beckon Rhys over. "Come sit on my lap and tell Daddy Jack all about it. I should know who I need to threaten with a shotgun when they come knocking, don't I?"

"Maybe I shouldn't tell you." Rhys laughed, and wandered over. He helped himself to a seat in Jack's lap, straddling his hips. "Not sure I want you pointing a gun at yourself, dad."

"So I'm your type? Now that's the answer I like to hear." Jack helped himself to digging his fingers into Rhys' waist and grinned as the "kid" squirmed. Jack smacked him in the thigh. "Good boy."

"Ow! Jack! I thought I was being a good boy." Rhys huffed and shoved Jack in the shoulder. "That hurt."

"You keep whining like that and you're really going to be hurting when I bend you over my knee," Jack said, rubbing Rhys' thigh. He pinched Rhys in the side and laughed. "And then I'll have to ground you. What do you say to that, kiddo?"

"I'd have to call Sasha and complain about my old man for a few hours," Rhys said, smirking. "And I know how you'd love that."

"You are such a cheeky little brat," Jack said. He pushed them both over shoving Rhys' back flat into the couch cushions. Rhys grunted, his hips slamming into Jack's. "I love it."

Jack pressed their noses together, smothering Rhys into the couch. "Now, are you going to be a good boy or not, Rhysie?"

"I'm always a good boy," Rhys said back. "You're the big bad dad."

"Damn straight," Jack said.

"Language," Rhys said, pressing his lips together to keep from laughing.

Jack shut him up with a kiss and grinding their hips together.


End file.
